


Crossing Paths

by Gunschute



Category: Star Wars, Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rebels, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types, Transformers (Bay Movies)
Genre: Ficlet, Self-Indulgent, both?, crossover fic, mercenary au, or some double crossing, short fic, time for a profit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-28
Updated: 2019-08-28
Packaged: 2020-09-28 08:00:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20422589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gunschute/pseuds/Gunschute
Summary: A pirate with a bounty on his head walks into Sinful Spirits-- a place for mercenaries and bounty hunters to gather. Perhaps this time he doesn't get off that easily. But then again, this is Hondo.





	Crossing Paths

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place in an alternative universe where Crosshairs breaks away from the Autobots pretty early on in the war and goes off to become a proper mercenary instead. It includes parts of world building that went into his story, such as the planet he's made a sort of home-away-from-home and his ship that he'd worked up into earning.

Yiuip isn’t exactly a moon one happens across by accident. The planet it orbited wasn’t much more than barren wastelands these days, once teeming with plant life and wondrous creatures. But that was years ago. These days the most it was good for was ditching some poor sucker to suffer and die. Which lead to it being removed from tourist points.

Which means only a specific crowd knew about the happenings on one of the twin moons that were entrapped in it’s orbit. Especially Yiuip, which has been turned into a sort of small hub point. Mostly for bounty hunters and mercenaries.

And that’s what had brought the lone Cybertronian there once more, the bright green mecha giving pause outside the building with a giant neon sign reading ’**Sinful Spirits**’ overhead in obnoxious red, blue and purple lights that weaved throughout the sign. The paratrooper quickly checked over the small wound gorged into his side to make sure it didn’t look as bad as it did earlier before heading in.

The sound of voices of all volumes and types hitting Crosshairs’ audials was sudden and welcome, a familiar sound at this point in his life. He offered the navy blue femme that was stationed near to the entrance a nod as he slipped past her, soon finding himself sliding into one of his favourite spots at the bar top and catching the Cybertronian behind the counter’s attention with a wave. Within a minute Crosshairs had his usual drink in servo and was finally able to ease down and turn his focus more outwards to see just what the bar might be offering today.

Not that his attention got very far before he noticed the tail end of an interesting looking organic alien finally finish it’s way clambering up the chair next to him, which in and of itself almost managed to draw the paratrooper’s full attention had he’d not registered it soon enough to stubbornly ignore the creature. Whatever it was after, he’s sure it wasn’t worth his attention—

“Pardon me,” The creature spoke up suddenly, instinctively drawing the mercenary’s attention to them which prompted them to enthusiastically clasp their hands together and continue, “Hello my friend! I couldn’t help but notice you came into this fine establishment_ alone_.”

“Ah’m not interested,” Crosshairs gruffed into his drink as he quirked an optic ridge, effectively cutting the organic being off momentarily, “Ah’m busy. Go bug someone else.”

“Ah yes, I see that. But just hear me out!” They pressed, arms opening wide now, as a grin adorned the odd creatures face, “For it is your lucky day, my friend. I, Hondo Ohnaka, happen to be in need of a crew. And I do believe you fit the bill quite nicely.”

_Hondo Ohnaka_… Crosshairs squinted down into his drink for a moment before giving it a swirl and snorting, finally gracing the creature with his more proper attention once more, “Ain’t ya th’ weequay that crash landed on this moon?"

"What?!” The creature sounded offended, pressing a hand over their chest and feigning a look of hurt, “_Me_? Crash landed? Oh, no no no. You must be getting me mixed up with some other, handsome weequay pirate. No. See I just happened to find my way here and. Uh. Need a little help finding my way _elsewhere_.”

“I’m not a ferrier. If ya want transportation, yer better off looking elsewhere.” Crosshairs huffed then, finally turning back away from the smaller lifeform and watching them freak out from the corner of his optic. He didn’t pay it much mind as he downed the rest of his drink and waved the bartender down for another one.

“I think you’ve misunderstood!” the weequay practically shouted, taking a few steps forward to come nearer to the paratrooper as they then lowered their voice, “I’ve a little… mission, I’ve to pull off too. Very profitable. Somewhat daring… but I’ve come to find myself fresh out of crewmates to help with it. But you! You look like a very capable Cybertronian! You are Cybertronian, right?"

"You could say that.” Crosshairs ventured, not turning back to the weequay for a solid minute as he instead toyed with his refilled drink. Milking the engex slowly in contemplation. “_How_ profitable?”

The question earned the paratrooper a bright grin from the weequay, “Very much so, but I’m afraid it’s best not to talk about it in public lest we have nosy people around.”

“Fine, but whatever it is I’m getting seventy-five percent if we do this.” Crosshairs then signaled to the bartender once more, receiving a small nod from the small mecha before he finished his second drink, swinging his legs around and touching down to the ground with ease and starting off towards the door.

“_Seventy_— now hold on!” the weequay called out, quickly scrambling over the edge of the stool to slide down to the ground and take off after the much larger being, “That’s a little steep don’t you think? I mean! What about my finders fee at least? Come on, friend. Can I talk you down to. Say… Thirty?”

“For you, maybe.” Crosshairs grinned over their shoulder best he could, watching the organic race to keep pace, “But ye gotta pay fer my ferrying yer sorry aft.”

“Ah!” Hondo voiced, tone hinting at agreement though Crosshairs doubted that was the last of it, “It’ll more than be covered, my dear Cybertronian companion. How about fifty fifty?”

It was by then they’d cleared the doorway, and Crosshairs was making a bee-line for the docking bay off towards the right of the establishment. He offered the organic being a soft hum.

“Guess that depends. Is fifty percent worth more than th’ bounty on yer head, Ohnaka?” The words were low, though no one was visibly around at current. He hears the weequay cease their pursuit after him and stopped himself, turning to quirk an optic ridge as arms crossed over his chest. The weird creature almost looked giddy.

“Oh, _finally_!” they exclaimed, hands once more clasping underneath that wide grin of theirs. Eyes bright even behind the goggles they’ve donned, “Someone who’s heard of me. You know, for being so famous these days it’s hard to find anyone who knows me.”

“… I’m beginning to think collecting the bounty is a better course of action already.” The words instantly had the grin faltering and the weequay waving their hands drastically.

“No no no! At least hear me out first. No need for a hasty decision. Now. About that privacy?” It was then the dark, almost gunmetal grey ship to their right suddenly hissed open it’s ramp, and the paratrooper turned with a flourish of his coattails— walking up the ramp and into _The Audacious_.

“Before you board, just know; if you try to double cross me, Hondo Ohnaka. I **will** be collecting the bounty for your smoldering corpse.”


End file.
